Motel
by 24Chocoholic24
Summary: Jordan & Woody get stranded by a run-down motel. No sex or anything, just Woody being stubborn and reluctant and, as usual, easily manipulated by Jordan. WoJo. ONESHOT.


"Watch out!" Jordan gasped frantically as Woody jerked the steering wheel to the left and removed the car from harm's way. With the snowfall as heavy as it was, neither had seen the power line pole until they were almost upon it. There was no other traffic, which worried the couple a bit. They were out in the middle of nowhere, so it seemed, with no map and no idea what to do next. Allowing his better judgment to show, the detective pulled into the first parking lot he could find. To his dismay, it was that of an old, worn-down motel with but four cars in the parking lot. The building was one story, and not at all impressive, though almost inviting considering the weather and circumstances that Woody and Jordan found themselves dealing with.

"Oh, no, no, no!" Woody rubbed his tired eyes with one hand and shook his head. "We are _not_ staying in there. I don't care how late it is; I just want to go home and sleep in my own bed!"

Jordan, on the other hand, was trying her best to stay sensible and optimistic. "Come on, Woody! How bad can it be? Besides, we can't see well enough to get home; and we can't stay in the car. It's freezing outside, and I don't want to waste gas trying to keep it warm all night. We'll get a better night's sleep in there – on me."

It was a good offer, but Woody was only slightly inclined to take it. "I'd rather sleep in a cardboard box. It's more sanitary… and safer."

So that was it. He didn't want to feel dirty or unsafe. "No one has ever died because they stayed at a dirty hotel, Woody. And by the way, with your cop skills and my strong will, we'll be plenty safe. I'll be just a knock or a phone call away if you need me." She meant it, but her voice carried a hint of sarcasm.

"If we go in there," the man insisted, "we are getting _one room._ I'm not taking any chances, especially not with you."

It would not be entirely correct to say that Jordan resented his protectiveness, but she wasn't sure she wanted it at the time. "What, do you think I need a bodyguard? A babysitter? Is that it, now?"

"No. But I _do_ care about you, and we'll probably need the shared body heat to stay warm in that mess of a motel. Please, do it for me, if nothing else." His eyes held her gaze and his voice was firm.

She could not help but give in. "Fine," she agreed before getting out and dragging him into the unkempt pile of bricks. Once inside, they approached the front desk. Seeing as nobody was there, Woody slammed his fist onto the innocent little bell sitting on the counter. Jordan shot him a "what-are-you-trying-to-do" look, and he just shook his head. Before long, a short, grouchy man with the appearance of a man with no possessions approached the counter.

"One room or two?" he asked simply.

Jordan considered glaring at Woody again, but decided against it. "One, please." She paid; the clerk marked something on a paper, then directed them to a room down the hall.

"Don't we need a key? Y'know, to get into the room?" Woody prodded.

The other man shook his head. "System broke down years ago. Now, we just prop the doors open when nobody's in 'em. Be sure to have it propped open again when you leave. There's no gettin' in from the outside once the door's closed."

Jordan, satisfied with the reply, turned and headed to room 8. Woody hesitated a moment, but was soon behind Jordan in their cozy little room. "I really think we should reconsider. This place is _not _up to date regarding health and safety codes, and I'm pretty sure that this building wasn't put together right."

"Take a risk, then," the woman dared him. "I'm a doctor, you're a cop. If there's something here that the two of _us_ can't handle, I'll consider reconsidering then. For now, I can assure you: we'll be fine for the night." Fluidly, she kicked off her shoes and pulled down the bedcovers. "See, they even washed the bedding for us." The smell of laundry soap was more than evident, but the warmth and softness of the bed was welcome after a long day's work. Jordan threw off her jacket and sweater, quickly sliding into bed under the over-cleaned comforter. Woody stripped of everything except his undershirt, underwear, and socks before climbing in on his side. Before long, both had fallen into a peaceful sleep, Jordan's head on Woody's shoulder and his head against hers.


End file.
